


It Was Only One Nacht

by WriteMeow2



Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23098240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteMeow2/pseuds/WriteMeow2
Summary: A prequel to Mädchen In Wartime. This short story follows SS Christof Altenhofen, from the night of his daughter's conception. Through nine Hellish months, eventually leading up to his escape. Rated M for lang, mild graphic sex, and mpreg. Enjoy! Final Chapter 4 up!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

An abandoned barn was perhaps not the most ideal location to, ahem, participate in the exploration of the human anatomy. But with a World War currently waging around them, well, they weren't at much liberty to be too selective. The fact they were able to break away at all was astounding. Obersturmbannführer Christof Altenhofen, flashed a small smile as he went to work arranging the hay pile best he could.

He remembered when they first met. Of all things, a shooting range mishap landed him in an American triage roughly 6 months back. His fellow solider and friend, Otto Köhler, had been the one to transport him there. However, he was reluctant in having a unit of Yank nurses treating a full-blooded German of the eminent Reich. But, when its your only triage for miles, beggars couldn't exactly be choosers.

* * *

"Unfall!" 

He shouted in a panic. Momentarily forgetting where he was. The women's expression shared a look of unease, however they wouldn't dare turn the men away. The head nurse of the unit signaled to a young woman and two others to tend to Christof. That's when he first laid eyes on her. 

Her sandy blonde hair in tight curls, a stark white nursing cap, complete with a bold red cross. Perched neatly atop it. Hazel eyes that took on the appearance of honey in the right lighting. She was absolutely breathtaking. Patting his arm in a feeble attempt in comforting him.

"It'll be okay"

She spoke. Her voice, overall appearance. Couldn't of been more than 22, he noticed Köhler's gaze had yet to waver. As if he was somehow afraid of diverting his attention, even for a moment. Christof sighed deeply before giving orders for the man to leave. Feeling as though his eyes were burning holes only exacerbated his anxiety.

"Warten sie draußen, bitte?" 

The man's brows furrowed deeper. He wasn't exactly thrilled with given orders, unless they were from a higher command. However, he was his friend nonetheless, and had to respect his wishes.

"Ruf an, wenn du mich brauchst"

He informs Altenhofen before stepping outside the triage area. It seemed the stray bullet became lodged in his right thigh, however, as if by magic, managed to miss splintering the bone by a mere 1/2 inch. He then heard the pretty, young nurse chuckle to herself before gingerly turning Christof over to inspect for any further injuries.

"Your friend seems a bit high-strung"

Her expression breaking into a softened grin as she cleaned the wound of debris and methodically applied the cloth dressing. Another nurse monitoring his blood pressure, his upper lip curls momentarily, feeling a fleeting stinging sensation from the damaged area. Even so, he found it within himself to chuckle with her. His accent as thick as pea soup.

"He can be at times"

She suddenly looks deeply into his eyes. Brushing an errand strand of hair back to secure with the cap.

"By the way, my name is Anna Brooks"

* * *

Spotting a discarded wool blanket, in shockingly good condition, Christof throws it over the pile for a bit of comfort. A small smile of satisfactory starts pulling at the corners of his mouth. As he stood back, admiring his handiwork. He turns to Anna, that rather goofy expression still plastered across his face. Fanning his hands out towards the pile.

"Also, was denkst du?"

The poor girl appeared mildly confused. It taking several seconds to register, that he wasn't speaking with a fellow German. And despite trying to teach her some of his native language, it did little in the way of actually being beneficial. Their meetings were so few and far between, add to that the stresses of their countries at war.

"Entschuldigung..(he caught himself doing it again)..er, I mean, what do you think?"

The officer could feel his face instantly flush a rose red with embarrassment. Then he heard something he would never expect in a million years, she giggled. But not in a condescending fashion, this was genuine.

"Ich liebe es"

The _verbotene Liebhaber_ made haste of discarding their uniforms to the old wooden floor and fell back into the massive heap. A plume of dry grass particles and dust instantly disperse into the air. He feels her hot breath on the nape of his neck. The feeling intensifying as she transitions into daintily nibbling. A rush of endoprhins flood through. Almost like a high, perhaps the only time the German didn't have to rely on opioids to achieve this.

Their body temperatures rising. The heat sparsely mingling with the remaining dust. Christof's firm hands traveled down to cradle her hips. Her moans began to gradually intensify. Part of him worried their moments of bliss would give them away, however, when considering they were relatively isolated, they should have nothing to fear. Suddenly, she breathes out forcefully.

"Fuck me"

Simultaneously biting her lower lip as, she too, found herself riding the same natural high. He brushes a slightly damp strand of her from her face. Studying her body language briefly. He swallows a gulp of air.

"Are you sure?"

He asked, his voice reverting back to its native inflection. She nods almost instantaneously. Their warm lips seemingly melding together, keeping in tune with the rocking motions of her body. It was a night of passion he would not soon forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _A Month Later_ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Der Führer had arranged for his closest circles to be present for a briefing of a new, strategic military course of action, as well as camp reinforcements. It was then that Christoph felt it, as if his insides wanted to rebel. The men creating an orderly line along the lengths of the briefing hall. A fellow officer takes notice of Christof's alarmingly pale appearance.

"Bist du okay?"

He inquires suddenly. Altenhofen simply nodded his head. The anxiety building, simply hoping his fickle stomach would settle soon. Spotting their illustrious leader make his way down the line of distinguished, proud men. He was nearing Christof, when the poor, young man's stomach lurched forward. A hand quickly flies over his mouth as he absconds from the group. Rushing through the massive doorway, just in time to lose what little contents he had left.


	2. Chapter 2

As time dragged on. Christof began noticing significant changes, the vomiting and aversion to certain smells gradually morphed into heartburn, weight gain and fatigue. By this time, it had been roughly 6 months since he and Anna had seen each other. Within the next couple months, his division would be transported to Poland to oversee order in Auschwitz.

He felt as though he were losing his mind. Like something was shifting his organs. That night, the German lie awake in his bunk. He just couldn't get comfortable. Lazily lying a hand on his stomach, within moments, his palm was met with what felt like a slight nudge. His eyes widen.

"Was zur Hölle?!"

He gasps in a panic, inadvertently raising his voice higher than intended. Thankfully, the others were basically comatose." _Nein, dies kann nicht sein passiere_ n" he thought. Feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of him, he knew instantly what was going on. Mentally running through the past 6 month timeline, he was pregnant.

"Scheiße" 

He growled. How could he be so stupid? To become pregnant in the middle of a war? But perhaps most astonishing was the fact no one picked up on it. The sickness, the additional weight, nothing. However, even before the revelation, he'd been relatively innovative on ways to hide the weight gain. 

Now unfortunately. No matter the level of innovation, it was only a matter of time before the men grew wise. He lets out a deep sigh, watching as the curvature of his stomach fell with it. Hearing nothing but the beating of his own heart and heavy sleeping of the others.

A brief contemplation of abortion flashed through his brain. Perhaps Mengele could work him in a favor. Then he felt it move again, banishing the thought swiftly. He may not have been pleased with this discovery. But this baby was his responsibility, now. A small smile crept across his face, and his hand returning to the area he felt the baby stir.

"Ich werde dich sorgen"

He whispered to his unborn child. Finally conceding to his fatigued state and shut his eyes to fall asleep. Hand still laying over the area, protectively.

* * *

Once he had awaken, some 5 hours later. Christof wanted to try and reach Anna by phone and inform her of this unintended news. He knew there was one in the secretary's office, however, she may be rather displeased with officers requisitioning it for personal calls. 

Suddenly remembering there was an extra pair of silk stockings he'd forgotten to give the nurse on their first meeting alone together. Perhaps use it to his advantage as a cajole to use the phone.

Slowly, he approaches the office. Lightly knocking on the open doorframe. This, in turn, startled the poor girl. He chuckles softly.

"Entschuldigung, Fraülein Christian. Darf ich das Telefon benutzen?"

He was so charming, it was nearly impossible for any woman to say no. He smirked and dangled the pair of stockings in front of her. She couldn't help but flash a small smile, almost immediately becoming putty in his hands.

"Okay, fünf Minuten"

She informs him, reaching out to retrieve the silk from his grasp. He wasn't quite sure how to he would explain his personal call was in English. Though chances were, she was probably so grateful to receive such a rare and rationed commodity, she'd most likely just overlook it.

He couldn't risk her being privy to the bombshell that was moments away from being relayed to the American nurse. But then he realized, she didn't understand a word of English. He gives a deep sigh of relief. Fraülein Christian returning to her paperwork.

The German positions his index finger in the groove of the rotary dial and waits anxiously for someone on the other line to answer. He hears a metallic-like _clink_ , before a rather heavily Southern accented nurse could pick up the receiver.

"Hello, American Red Cross. Dolly speakin' "

Christof swallowed nervously. Rather unsure of how precisely he should proceed. He takes a moment to clear his head and try to focus on his subpar American English.

"Yes..Anna Brooks, bitte?"

Slamming his eyes shut with frustration, as he impetuously slipped back briefly into his mother tongue. Quite to his astonishment, the phone made its short journey to the intended recipient. The girl's voice sounded distracted, her usual relaxed nuance had been replaced by harried tone.

"Yes, hello?"

Finally utters a familiar voice. He knew she had precious little time. He had to get this over with. Anxiously swallowing a gulp of air before continuing.

"Ja..Anna.. this' Christof, listen..so..I'm (suddenly, his words are drowned out by the agonized screams of an American soldier in the background that had just been admitted. She gives an abrupt, tensive sigh)

—"Christof, whatever it is, say it now! I have to go!"

Again, he takes in a large gulp of air. Directing his gaze to this floor, as he watched his feet shift from a combination of anxiety and discomfort. Bringing a hand up to massage the back of his neck, it almost seemed like time crawled to a snail's pace. It was almost as though he could feel he vexation through the phone line. He sighs once more.

"I... just wanted to say... you're going to be a.."

Before he could even finish, the abrupt metallic _clink_ sound returned, and then.. nothing but dead airspace. His heart sank, however, last thing he wanted was the secretary catching wind of his affairs and current emotions. He returns the classic black phone to its hook. Unsure of what to do next. The woman's gaze shifts from the silk on her desk, towards the soldier. She gives a small smile.

"Ist alles in ordnung?"

She inquired. A certain, compassionate inflection behind her tone. As if she wasn't asking because she felt obligated, or it was what was expected. But because she genuinely did care. He attempts to give a small smile, making his way back out the open door. He gives yet another heavy sigh, before nodding his head with a fraction of the energy.

"Alles ist okay"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: This Chapter is shorter than the two previous. I was also a bit unsure what mode of transportation the SS took to oversee camps. The Deutsche Reichsbahn seemed like a safe bet. However, if this is inaccurate, please let me know. Enjoy and happy reading!**

* * *

**December 15th, 1944**

The time had come for Christof's unit to travel to Poland, ensuring order of the prisoners in Auschwitz. The officer was now at eight months. Dark clothing and long coats worked wonders in concealing his gravid middle. He could feel the baby shift to his right side, momentarily bringing a hand to caress the area and calm her down. 

While there was no definitive way to determine the gender. His intuition told him it was a girl. Observing his fellow men, cautious as to not arose suspicion on himself if he kept his hands on his stomach for an extended period. The journey was long, with the men in close confines of their private military _Reichsbahn_. An officer sitting across from Christoff smirked.

"Kann nicht warten, um aus und strecke meine Beine" 

He jests. Christof directed his attention to the ground, quietly chuckling in response. He was the most uncomfortable he'd ever felt. The baby's head putting pressure on his bladder, his back aching, and feet so swollen he was shocked they still managed to fit in his boots. At long last, they had arrived. It being signaled by a shrill whistle as the train pulled into the station. 

The harshness of the cold December wind, nipping at their faces with an unforgiving nature. The skies blanketed with an ominous gray overcast. Getting slowly to his feet, did this in turn, garner a response from his daughter. Reacting to him now standing upright, with a series of kicks and jabs. He shuts his eyes harshly, bracing himself on the wall nearest him. Inhaling and exhaling deeply and slowly. The same officer sitting opposite of him, takes notice.

"Ist alles in Ordnung?"

He inquired, concerned. Christof nodded his head without saying a word. Again, inhaling deeply, he finally finds the energy to detrain, his daughter finally settling down. At least for the moment. He breathes a sigh of relief. The unit near the camp, Christof gazes up at the magnificent iron entrance _ARBEIT MACHT FREI_. Armed guards at the gates check the unit's records.

With uniforms similar in color and dress to theirs. Christof hiked his collar up further, attempting to keep in whatever warmth he could. He hands the guard his papers. The man's steel blue eyes rashly scan the fine print. A half smile and nod proceed before handing the documentation back.

"Du bist klar"

He slips the papers back inside his black leather trench coat. Feeling the ground crunch beneath his feet. Taking note of the towers and outer brick buildings. Some prisoners scattered about, others detained behind barbed wire. All matching blue and white pajama-like uniforms, as if they had stepped off an assembly line. Christof sneered, having to be in the same proximity as these animals was more revolting than anything morning sickness could've brought. 

Their gaunt, dirty appearance had the officer wishing he was more equipped to lessen being exposed to them. Eyes lazily surveying the layout the further he ventured. Hearing the sounds of their pitiful, pathetic cries and screams. It was truly repugnant. Out of the corner of his eye, does he see one of these creatures approach him. Christof's hand reaches underneath his jacket, fingertips brushing against his holster containing his C96 Mauser pistol. 

The prisoner's beady, hollow eyes boring into him. Bringing the officer a feeling of unease. Suddenly, he feels his daughter start to stir about. Causing him to have to stop and essentially catch a breather. Hand not leaving the smooth leather of his holster. Inexplicably, it was like the prisoner had sensed the officer was heavily pregnant. Thinking he could get him in a moment of weakness. The haggard man shouts something in Polish, before making a lunge for Christof.

This also caught the attention of nearby officers, but his trigger finger was quicker. Withdrawing his pistol at breakneck speed, his calloused, dirty fingers barely brushed the breast pockets of the German's jacket before he fired two shots into his abdomen. The savage crumpled to the ground in a pathetic heap. Officers rushed over, making sure he wasn't harmed. His hands with a bit of a tremor. He spat on the bit of ground next to the man's head.

"Dreckiger Jude"

The German growled, waving off the approaching officers. Feeling "invigorated", he was curious to see if any of the other prisoners were really foolish enough to try and attack him. He turns to face a group of about ten, that stopped to witness the incident. For dramatic effect, he blows out the trace trails of smoke from the muzzle. An almost facetious tone overtakes his voice as he addresses the sparse group.

"Irgendjemand anderes wollen ein gehen?"


	4. Chapter 4

**There has been a few edits and changes of this last chapter that differ slightly from events in Mädchen In Wartime. Two very crucial being, the baby girl was born in the warmer months, towards the end of the War. Here, it is written as her being born in winter (still in '45). The other change being, she is born in Oświęcim, Poland. Not her homeland of Germany. Enjoy and please R &R!** 😊

* * *

December turns to January. Bringing with it, the ninth month of Christof's pregnancy. The winds bitter cold, finding he was more thankful than ever for his thick leather trench. He breathes into his hands, a mediocre attempt to bring the warmth and circulation back to them. All the while, his piercing blue eyes scanning the perimeter. Feeling even more vulnerable than he had before. 

He had opted for the duty of foot patrol. The towers posed too much of a risk at their heights, for him to man. Quite frankly, very few things could ensure the German a healthy pregnancy. How he made it this far was beyond him, practically everywhere he turned he was putting himself and daughter in jeopardy. He spots an officer approaching with a crooked smile.

"Sie in der Linie behalten?"

He jests, referring to the prisoners. Christof simply nodded and chuckled.

"Ja!"

Surprisingly, the animals seemed to possess enough foresight to take heed and not test the officers. Unless they wanted to end up like their fellow inmate Christof shot dead a month prior. This wasn't to say everyone was entirely compliant. If he didn't have his pistol by his side, situations would become deadly within seconds.

Suddenly, he notices a confrontation with one of the officers at the entrance of the chambers. He turns heel and heads in their direction. All the while being mindful to keep his hand within close range of his pistol.

"Was ist das problem?"

He inquired. The filthy man thrashed against the officer's restraints. His soulless, dead eyes boring a hole, just as the other had done. Christof, once again sneered. He joined the officer on his right side and attempted to brace against the prisoner's outbursts. Just as they opened the door, the dirty swine spat in the officer's face.

"Du ficken kike!"

The German snarled. Taking a tighter grip of his arms. Christof reached for his pistol, as he held the door open with his free hand. The officer forcefully shoved the animal inside. Frantically wiping the sickening bodily fluid from his face. Just as Christof turned to ask if he was alright, both were unaware that another filthy prisoner had crept up behind them.

Even if his fellow officers were unaware of his condition, somehow, they were. And unfortunately for the German, his reaction time wasn't nearly as rapid this time around. Just as he was about to resume foot patrol, with the other officer's back turned, the animal took the opportunistic moment to strike. Sending a heavy blow with his foot right into Christof's stomach. The German let out a sharp cry of pain and fell to his knees. A slug of lead right between the wretched creature's eyes. Suddenly, the shrill of an alarm sounded.

* * *

"Achtung!, Achtung!" 

The officer vigorously shouted. Rushing to Christof's aid. At that moment, he was so sure he had lost his baby. A single tear slipping down his cheek. It only took a moment for their once, orderly overseeing to turn to absolute chaos.

"Du bist okay?!..Sind sie verletzt?!"

His questions in rapid fire succession. All he could do was simply nod his head, he was much too preoccupied for his brain to form any type of words. In no time flat, the camp was in the makings of a full scale riot. As much as he valued the concern of his fellow officers, he had to make a break for it. Clinging to that sliver of hope his daughter was unharmed, and to seek out a safe of place as possible to deliver her. 

As the unrest grew, so did the pain throughout the German's body. Shakily getting to his feet, cradling his gravid middle. His breathing erratic and panicked. Before the direst had him becoming a prisoner himself, he made his escape. Albeit, slowly. 

With each step taken, the pain steadily grew worse. However, it was that sliver of hope he held out for, that turned his Hell into an ephemeral Heaven. He had nearly covered a mile before feeling his daughter kick. His face instantly breaking into a weakened grin. Feeling a hot tear run down his cheek. Mixed feelings of absolute ecstatic and relief. Stopping momentarily to gingerly rub the area he felt the jab.

"Mein liebling. Du bist am Leben!" 

By the second mile, Christof wearily spotted an abandoned concrete tunnel. It was nothing short of a miracle he was able to cover the distance he had. His contractions growing stronger by the minute and what little energy was left, slowly breaking down.

* * *

His back giving into its own fatigue, conceding to the harsh, solid tunnel wall to act as support. Again, he found himself more than thankful for his trench's additional layer of warmth and comfort, that he so desperately needed. Just when he thought he could have a moment, and properly breathe. His abdominal muscles contracted, bringing with it an intense wave of labor pain.

"Fick mich!"

He hissed. It wouldn't be long now. All he asked for was she be delivered safely and well looked after. He was now marked as a verräter, never again to show his face, for his next move would be lined up against a firing wall. Feeling the presence of cold sweat starting to trickle down his forehead, stinging his eyes.

Making haste of removing his black leather belt. This acting as a safeguard, something to protect his tongue from soon resembling Swiss cheese. His teeth burying deep into the leather as another powerful contraction hit. Again, letting out a weakened, pained curse. Hearing as every noise densely vibrated off the tunnel's walls.

Attempting to use what minuscule, conserved energy he had left. He went to work removing his trousers and jacket. All that remained was his dress shirt and long leather trench. His already weakened voice lowered to a whisper.

"Beruhige dich, meine liebe"

Feeling her tiny feet press against the palm of his hand. Knowing full and well the request was absolutely fruitless, but anything to lessen the pain. Even as a distraction, was welcoming. Even if it was only for a moment. Once again, his teeth instinctively sinking into the black leather of his belt. It was this contraction that finally succeeded in breaking his water.

* * *

Suddenly, his ears pick up the sounds of footsteps echoing throughout. The sound growing nearer as the bits of ground crunched beneath their feet. His breath hitched, complete dread for what could possibly be rounding the corner. If it was fellow SS, he was possibly safe.

Eyes watering from the pain. Exhaustion holding him in a vice-grip. Just then, he hears the man call out.

"Jemand hier?"

He breathes a sigh of relief, as the approaching figure turned out to be fellow SS, Reinhardt Dross. The man's eyes go wide in both shock and panic, as the sight of an enervated Altenhofen in labor became more clear in his field of vision. He gasped.

"Mein Gott!"

His paces quicken, rushing over to assist the poor, fatigued German.

"Was ist los?!"

He asked, his voice hurried and frantic. Even through the midst of another excruciating wave of contractions, he managed a brutally sardonic response.

"In wehen, scheißkopf! Wie sieht es aus?!"

Despite this, the officer went to work assisting. The two hypothetically praying no one else would come across them. Reinhardt kindly removes his own jacket, as to provide some form of additional comfort against the hard ground, easing the expectant officer onto it. Thankfully for them both, their trenches managed to stave off some of the harshness of the bitter, January air.

"Hinlegen"

He instructs. Christof winces as he changes his position sitting against the wall, to lying down on the unforgiving ground. The uniform wasn't much. But it protected his head at least. His discarded trousers placed underneath his lower half, his own jacket reserved to wrap the baby in. The overwhelming sensation to push was upon him. With the countless hours in search of shelter, combined with the insurmountable amount of stress on his body. He was now fully dilated.

"Fick!"

He curses in pain. Dross brings an index finger to his lips to shush him. They couldn't afford any unnecessary attention. How it hadn't happened already was shocking. The stolid officer does a quick examination before he is sure he was satisfied with the expectant father proceeding. He gives a light head nod.

" Schieben..sorgfältig" 

He instructs once more. Christof mustered any traces of remaining strength left and bore down. An elated flash sweeps across Dross' face as he realized, with even one push, how much progress was made. 

"Ich kann den kopf sehen!"

He stated. A momentary spark of elation in his voice. Christoff gives a weary smile and chuckles softly. It seemed as though his body was now fueling off a surge of hormones and endorphins. Thankfully, thereby distracting his brain from honing in on the sheer intensity of his labor pains. He could feel the baby gradually move down further. If he could just push her shoulders out, Dross would guide her the rest of the way.

"Pushen ein bisschen mehr, okay?" 

An explosion nearby, causing the ground to quiver, dust and bits of cement particles showering them. Somehow, this life-threatening occurrence was just what the officer needed. He found he now had his second wind. Once again, his eyes harshly shut. Subconsciously uttering a string of fatigued groans before boring down, his muscles, again contracting. He catches a glimpse of Dross moving in closer. An immediate presence of uncomfortable pressure. He could only hope this signaled Reinhardt now had a firm hold of her tiny shoulders. And just like that, the agonizing sensation had lifted.

"Sie ist hier!" 

Dross announces. Inadvertently breaking his own orders and raising his voice. However, considering they were in the midst of Hell on Earth, they owed this modest bit of happiness to themselves, and to make a few exceptions. Christof's heart instantly swelling with pride and adoration upon hearing his daughter's first cries. Despite being surrounded by bloodshed and turmoil, even this wasn't enough to break the steel-plated bonds of love between a father and his daughter.

"Kann ich sie sehen?" 

He inquires weakly, Dross delicately swaddles the baby girl in her father's jacket. Careful as to keep her delicate skin from coming into contact with his various military medals. Slipping his Iron Cross into the breast pocket. Reinhardt couldn't help but chuckle softly as he handed the infant into her awaiting father's arms, with the same care and precaution as disarming a bomb.

"Natürlich"

That airy chuckle returning to his voice in response. Christof could feel a swarm of emotions all welling up at once. He waited nine long months for this moment. Gingerly brushing an index finger over her cherubic cheeks. Her tiny face scrunches in discontent, fair wisps of whitish-blonde hair. Finally opening her doll-like round eyes, revealing a breathtaking sky blue. His heart seemingly getting caught in his throat. No amount of high ranking honors, medals, or decorations, could ever compare to the 7.6 lb one he cradled in his arms. Ever so gently, placing a loving kiss atop her head.

"Vielen Dank, Reinhardt"

He spoke at long last. His strength returning at a snails pace. The officer simply smiled and nodded. Both knew they couldn't stay there, essentially nothing more than sitting targets for the Soviets. Dross aids in finally getting the young father to his feet. Slipping back into his trousers, and Dross, his jacket. The little girl started to whimper. He makes short order of returning his visor cap to its rightful place atop his head.

Focusing his attention, immediately, back on his fussy daughter. Stroking the feather down wisps with such care, one could momentarily mistake her for a porcelain doll. He rocks her agilely, voice reverting back to a docile whisper.

"Shhh..shhh, es ist okay, Liebling. Papa's hier"

Regrettably, all was not all right. As the men soon picked up the distinct sounds of approaching enemy soldiers echoing off the tunnel's walls. Reinhardt's eyes widen in fear. Quickly turning to the officer, motioning for him and the baby to leave immediately. A pang struck Christof's heart, that his fellow brother in arms was sacrificing his life to save him and his daughter's.

"Aus, Schnell!"

He ordered briskly. Christof tips his visor. Drawing his daughter closer to his chest, nestling her inside his trench for extra warmth, before flashing a somber expression. The baby's soft cries brings him back into focus, hurriedly attempting to make his way out. This was no easy feat when just given birth mere minutes ago. He hushes the baby gently, finally exiting the decrepit tunnel. It was then he heard it, causing his heart to free-fall. The bone-chilling exchange of the Soviets orders, then.. a gunshot.


End file.
